Time Heals All Wounds
by Smart Lady
Summary: Goodbye are never easy especially if it’s someone we loved, and even more so when we they leave unexpectedly
1. A Lost Love

Wow I didn't think so many people would read my little story I'm touched. I re-wrote the chapter. The story is the same, I just added to it. Enjoy

I have to warn people that this is my first GWTW fanfic. So please be gentle and nice. Although constructive criticism is welcomed. I can't spell to if you see any spelling errors let me know. Oh I have no ownership of anything relating to Gone with the Wind. It is the sole property of Margaret Mitchell. Sadly L but one can dream.

The weather reflected his current state of mind Stormy, windy, unpredictable,and simply unbearable. He knew he was surrounded by people. It seemed all of Atlanta was present, even the distinguished "Old Guard" was in attendance. They had all come to see for themselves if it was true she was dead and to pay their last respects to a woman whose courage, and beauty many admired. The irony of the "Old Guard's" presence was not lost to Rhett. In life they had ostracized her, but in death she was once again regarded as one of them. Perhaps it had been Melanie's doing, in all he was torn part of him was glad they were here showing that despite everything she was still respected while the other side of him wanted the ground to open up and swallow them all . The sight of them only served to arouse his already troubled mind.

"I taught her not to care about them," He thought, " I showed her how to break their strict moral code, to sneer at their traditions, and how to completely rebel to their entire way of life. And after she had completely broken away from them after she had done everything I instructed he to do what did I do, I stabbed her in the back. Once her reputation had been irreversibly stained. I changed my tune. I used Bonnie to charm my way into their good graces, and left her on a rapidly sinking ship with no mean of escape knowing she would drown alone.

He watched the funeral ceremony as a critic reviewing a new show, patiently watching the scene unfold upon the stage before his eyes anticipating what would come next. In a moment of denial he wished for all of this to be a horrible dream. He wanted to wake up, and see her lying next to him. Sadly, nothing occurred the funeral continued.

In all his life he had never left more alone or numb. His inability to display any emotions kept him from losing what little sanity he had left. He figured could possibly affect him, because she was gone. The only person who he had truly loved. Every moment they had spent together came back to him. A small crack appeared on the dam he had constructed around himself, and suddenly the was overwhelmed with the feeling the memories stirred in him.

Memories of her dancing, laughing, the first day he saw her, and the handful of times when she had left her guard down and demonstrated that affection for him bombarded his thoughts and threatened to destroy his fragile composure. Yes, the memories he reasoned would be his greatest treasure and his biggest torture, because with the good came the bad. In their turbulent relationship the bad seemed to be more prevalent.

Rhett Butler had accomplished many things in his life, but the one thing he had wanted in this world was Scarlett's love. If he had been blessed with that he could have lived a happy man. Scarlett only needed to say those three little words and he would hake lavished her with everything she could have possibly wanted. He would have made sure to protect her from the cruel hardships of life, and taken her anywhere in the world if she so desired it. But in this world we seldom get what we want, those world were never direct towards him, and in his desperation he had lashed out at her. He had belittled her treated her like a shiny trophy to be displayed to the word, out of spitefulness he had mocked her taste, her education, her social standing, and anything else he could think of that would ignite her temper. In doing so her now realized he had only caused her to idolize Ashley and despise him. He came out of his meditation, only vaguely aware that the sermon was almost over.

"The only thing we can do for her is pray for her eternal rest. We must resign our selves to God's will, trust in his infinite wisdom, and seek his help to guide us through this devastating times. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

It was obvious the priest had not known her because the sermon was too generic. It could have been for anyone, and she was unlike anything he had ever seen.

She had possessed passion,life, and an iron-will determination to overcome anything life threw in her way. He had admired her tremendously for that, he knew other who had crumbled under half the pain, suffering she had faced.

Resign himself he wanted to laugh at the idea. How was he supposed to resign himself to her death when she had been his life? When the simple motion of never smelling her perfume or having her next to him at night nearly made his heart stop. How could he go one knowing he would never see her again. He would never hear her laughter or see her face light up when he gave her a present. How was he supposed to deal the pain? The pain that threaten to consume him slowly killing him form within. How?

He thought all his tears had been shed. He had conceived him that he could feel nothing, but when the coffin was being lowered, the dam started to crack. When the gravediggers began to fill her grave, it was almost too much for him. At that moment he would have given everything he had to trade places with her. "It should be me in that coffin," he angrily thought "not her."

"If only I had shallowed my pride and reached her faster, perhaps she would still be here." If only I had confronted her the morning after Ashley's party, but no I choose the coward's way out. I could face war, storms, thieves, and numerous other dangers, but no my own wife. I ignored her pleas and later her letters demanding I bring Bonnie, because I couldn't handle seeing her. And because I wanted Scarlett O'Hara to feel a fraction of the pain I endured on a daily basis. I wanted her to beg me to come back. I wanted to have some dominion over her even if I had to use her own daughter against her."Life had made him pay dearly for his arrogance. He would live with that guilt for the rest of his life plagued with thoughts of what could have been.

Once the gravediggers were done, the people started to slowly leave. The overpowering combination of deep sorrow and extreme guilt was tearing him apart, and the mighty, seemingly invincible, adventurous blockade runner, and nonchalant Rhett Butler much to the astonishment of everyone fell on his knees at the foot of the grave, and started to cry. At that moment he did not appear to be a strong man, but a poor lost little boy whose dreams had been shattered and was being forced to face the cruel realities of life. "I can't do this without you Scarlett. How I'm a supposed to take care of the children. How can I look them in the eye when it's my fault your dead. I killed their mother. I'm sorry. I only wanted you to love me. I only wanted you to love me. " He felt someone put her hand on his shoulder, but he didn't care. The only thing he wanted was to cry for a lost dream, a lost cause, and a lost love.

The tombstone was of moderate size made of course of the finest marble. Even in death she demanded the best. The overall design was simple and elegant. The only thing about the tombstone that distinguished it from a sea of graves was the name. It had been beautifully and meticulously carved in an intricate design from gold. When the sun finally appeared and shined on it, it glowed and seemed to be something out of this world. To everyone present it seemed like a truly breathtaking monument a fitting tribute to the amazing person who was buried there. The woman who had broken every expectation and rule who had done everything in her power to make sure her family was safe .The one and only unforgettable Scarlett O'Hara Butler. May she rest in peace.


	2. Rage

-1Sad because I don't hear your voice

Glad because you're in peace

Hopeful because I know I'll see you again

Dedicated to anyone who has ever lost someone you'll understand.

I own nothing.

Wade Hamilton was his father's son in color but his spirit was his mother's. He did not fall down to the ground sobbing his heart out as he watched his stepfather breakdown, but that did not mean he felt the loss of his mother any less. He simply reasoned that breaking down would be of no use. It would not bring her back, and it would not make the pain go away. It would only open the flood gates and but the emptiness would remain.

He knew people were trying to help by being sympatric but how they understand the awful twisting pain that he was under he thought. How could anyone ever truly understand? In the last couple of days, he had thought more about his father than he had in most of life. Sure he had given some thought to him over the years and on his father's birthday had accompanied his aunt to his grave, but this was differ. As cold as is sounded he hardly noticed his father absence and while he would have liked to meet his father he rationalized that one could only miss what he had he had never had to a certain extent.

His mother was different, very different. Her passing had completely shaken his life. Life had taught him a very cruel lesson at a very young age. For most of his life had held an utter admiration and respect for his mother. Thought his life she has always been there never once giving in or letting any keep her down. And while She had never paid any extra attention to him she had always made sure that he had everything he needed.

Perhaps he rationed if their relationship had remained distant It would hurt as much. He doubt it.

Over the course of his stepfather's absence she had changed, while she was far from the dotting cookie cutting mother she had actually started spending time with him. They decorated his new room, taken walks and actually talked. She had even taken him to the store and let him help her with the books. He had been truly and utterly happy because although he had always know it She had told him she loved him and that she was proud of him. Yes, he thought for once in his life he had been completely sure he was loved, and then it was cruelly yanked away.

He recalled how in the hours prior to her passing while his aunt was telling him to pray for her soul and resignation he had wanted to yell no! He didn't want to pray for resignation he just wanted his Mother to be alright. He didn't want to hear talk of Heaven or God he simply wanted to stomp and yell and cry because Life was not fair. And he didn't want to be strong for his sisters and stepfather he just wanted to cry and scream and wake up from the awful nightmare. But what he wanted most of all was the answer to the oldest questions in time. WHY? Why her and why now?

Now the only thing he felt was the all too consuming rage that threaten to over take his calm demeanor. Yes, he felt rage. He felt rage at anyone and anything at this moment because rage was so much easier to handle than the loss. The rage made his forget the empty void even if it was only for a short time. He wanted to hurt because he was hurt and his dreams were broken, and no matter what they said no span of time would ever make the loss go away it would remain with him for all his life of that he was completely sure.


	3. A little less

Bittersweet

I own nothing.

Ella was not considered by many to be particularly bright, that is not to say that she was dumb but rather that with her cheerfully wandering disposition she gave the impression that abstract concepts were not her forte that she belonged in a wonderful world of tea parties , dress-up, and play acting. Perhaps that is why people were slightly more attentive to her during the wake and funereal because in a strange and inexplicable manner they felt that she had been cheated more than her siblings.

After all Wade was older and he had in some respect other close relatives, Bonnie still had her Father but poor little Ella she was now left with only an odd assortment of relatives and friends. In the last few days she had seen and talked to more people than she thought possible and while she never claimed to possess ability to read people's mind, but she was old enough to understand the sympathetic and pitiful glances people gave her, and she being her Mother's child knew she did not want people looking at her like that.

The flurry of activity of last week had passed in with an unusual slowness and she found that she was tired of the wide array of social customs that genteel society demanded be fulfilled. She was tired of the quiet voices people used around her mistakenly thinking speaking in a normal tone would somehow be too much for her to take. Ella was simply more exhausted than she could ever remember and the only thing she wanted was to escape to her safety of her room. The green princess room her Mother had helped her decorate. The room that contained a smaller replica of her mother's vanity table, and …

The sound of her stepfather's sobbing disturbed her wandering thoughts, and the sight proved too much for the little girl she found herself sobbing in her Aunt's arms gripping tighter than she knew was necessary so that she could somehow keep her from leaving too. She lifted her eyes only once to look at her brother and without a word being spoken they both voiced the same accusation at their estranged stepfather. "If you loved her so much why did you leave her? Why did you leave us?"

To all the people who reviewed thank you.

Shortly after I started writing this fanfic why grandfather was diagnosed with cancer he passed away shortly after the second chapter hit a little too close to home. I decided to start up again. Can't promise I'll finish but I have to say it's very therapeutic.


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